Waiting
by Stefan-sama
Summary: Seven years is a long time. Visiting someone after that kind of time can get rather awkward. Nonetheless, Phoenix finally summons up the courage to pay a visit to the detention center. Oneshot, PhoenixxIris


**Boredom really stinks, but I guess that's what oneshots are for. This one's pretty short, and I'm not very fond of it for some reason, but, what the heck. PhoenixxIris is kinda both easy and hard, but they tend to get lots of reviews nonetheless (hint, hint) because of the pairing's popularity. Apparently there's even a FeenRis day. Fans can get odd, but we're just awesome that way. Personally, I'm more of a NickxMaya supporter, so maybe I'll do one of those in the near future. Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Enjoy!**

**EDIT- A lot of my reviews here have asked why Iris' sentence was extended. Looking back, it's pretty stupid, but remember- this judicial system is run by a bunch of sadistic fucks. These are the same guys who give Manfred von Karma, Damon Gant, Kristoph Gavin, Dick Gumshoe, and Winston Payne their respective positions. These are also the same guys who let channeling and perceiving through, as well as the guys who let the prosecution abuse the defense mercilessly and object whenever the hell they want, while the defense has to put up with penalties for the tiniest things, as well as witnesses who change their testimonies every five seconds without any sort of perjury charges. Happy now? **

**Waiting**

The detention center was a place I'd never forget. The cries of the damned were certainly a haunting thing, but there were too many memories there. Some were screaming to be forgotten, but some were much more precious than others. Perhaps that was why: shame, sadness, yearning for golden years gone past. It was certainly no use feeling any of those, but, whatever it was, it kept me from the place for seven whole years: long, arduous years, with memories both lost and gained. Years with a hyperactive magician and a horned attorney. Years without spirit mediums, whipping, purple prosecutors, colorful clients. And without flowers. Certainly… Entertaining… Years, but there was something missing, a certain one of those flowers.

Trucy pushed open the door, bouncing in. She looked around, taking in the dark, dank surroundings. She pinched her nose. "Now, Daddy, are you sure you're going to be all right without Polly and me?" she said, genuine concern in her eyes.

"I'll be fine," I said, chuckling, pinching her hand. Trucy smiled and squeezed back, whirling and jumping down the steps to the waiting cab. She waved, Apollo with her, and the car zoomed off, leaving a horrid smell of gasoline behind. I turned, as well, pulling my sweatshirt tighter around me to stave off the chill slithering up my spine.

The empty halls echoed the sound of my footsteps, the flaps of my busted sandals slapping together. Seven years was a long time, but some things stay with you forever. Right. Left. Straight for two intersections. Around the corridor. Third cell down. The guard looked me over, patting me down. Acknowledging that I was all clear with a curt nod, he unlocked the door, admitting me inside.

The room reeked of cleaning materials. The walls were dirty white, stained with years of graffiti of condemned criminals longing for one last glimpse of the sun, marking the days with tallies, memoirs scribbled illegibly, games of tic-tac-toe played by the insane with themselves. True, radiant light was something hard to find down here in this hellhole. The single endless, unrelenting bulb would drive many mad. But here, here was the ultimate light, Amaterasu, Helios, Awondo, Re, Tonatiuh, Surya, all rolled into a ball and reincarnated into human form.

Iris.

She smiled, that shy, hiding smile, the one that had led me to fall in love with her so many years ago. "Hello, Feenie," she said quietly. "It's been seven years now, hasn't it…?"

I raised my palm stiffly in a gesture of greeting. Romance was never a strong suit of mine, despite my perfectly trained poker face, as Trucy was often quick to point out. "Um… Yeah, sorry about that," I flustered, scratching the back of my head. "Well… Um, you see… After that case… I, um… Ergo… That is-"

She got up, putting her index finger to my mouth and silencing me. "Shush… It's all right, there's no need to explain…" she murmured. She sat down on her bed, her raven hair flowing, and gestured for me to do the same on a small stool. "We don't get much news, down here. I don't suppose you've gotten your badge back..?"

I shook my head, sweeping my foot back and forth. Maybe I answered her question, but it was mostly to hide the blush and shame on my face. "Nah… I was acquitted of charges thanks to Polly- er, Apollo- but I… Just can't go back to it…" I blushed even harder. "Um… Do you know when you're getting out?" I asked, desperate to change the subject into something with a little more joy in it.

"Thankfully, the court was rather lenient on me… I should be released within the next year or so," she smiled, trying to hide the faint tinge of sadness in her voice. "It really isn't that bad, actually. It's quiet, and you don't have to worry about anything. They even serve coffee, ever since Mr. Armando pressed the guards into doing so last year." We both laughed, albeit dully, forced, each with a picture of a crazed caffeine addict in our minds, yelling "objection" in a ridiculously deep voice and throwing a large mug of scalding coffee thirty feet across a courtroom.

Another subject change. "It's odd," she said, looking me up and down. "You've really changed. You had let yourself go after your last trial, but not nearly this much. But, personally, I think the stubble suits you." I ran my fingers over my chin, feeling the roughly shaved hairs. "The beanie is nice, too. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, this?" I touched the top of my hat. "Ema gave it to me after that one case, and the badge with it, but I never really liked to wear it back then, no one would take me seriously. After I got disbarred, Trucy got her hands on a magic marker and wrote 'PaPa' on it, and, well, here it is."

Iris laughed softly. "I would very much like to meet her, she sounds like such a cute girl. Perhaps you could bring her in one of these days…?"

"I would," I replied, stroking the tip of my chin in thought, "But she's much too hyper for a place like this. Five steps in and she'd already be too loud for the staff. They'd kick her out as soon as she got in. Think Maya times two, maybe three." Another laugh, but this one not nearly as forced: we both knew how bad Maya could get. "Bad" being a very, _very_ sore understatement.

A loud knock sounded from outside, inciting both of us to look up. "Five more minutes until visiting hours are over," the guard announced, his voice dull, monotonous. "Finish up soon."

I turned back to Iris. Her beautiful green eyes gazed at me longingly, an overwhelming sadness glinting clearly through her pupils. "It looks like you'll have to leave now, I'm very sorry," she said softly. "Come by anytime, I'll always be waiting."

Just then, the guard burst through the door, his navy blue tie flapping. "Oh, Ms. Iris, I forgot to tell you. Sorry, but there's been some sort of decision from the higher-ups, you're sentence has been extended to another two years remaining."

Iris turned back to me, tears forming under her eyes. "It… Looks as if I'll be staying in here for a bit longer, Feenie…"

I nodded stiffly, trying to ignore the reality sinking in, the watery tears forming in my own eyes. "Yeah… Bye," I said, sniffing quietly. "Bye." I turned to leave, almost breaking into a run, but was stopped.

Iris wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her head on my shoulder. "Goodbye, Feenie." she said, her tears evident in her voice. "I'll wait for however long it takes for you to come back." she whispered, reaching up and planting a soft kiss on my cheek.

I nodded, turning and whispering into her ear. "Yeah, I'll come back as soon as I can. I promise," I said, hugging her one last time.

I let, without looking back. Past the guard, past the labyrinth, past the office, rubbing my tears away with my sleeve, into the streets. A drop of rain fell onto the sidewalk, making a loud _plip,_followed by another, and another. Soon, it was pouring down, masking my crying, my screams, my anguish.

I'd wait, too. One year. Two years. Five years. Ten years. Fifty years. However long it takes to see you again.


End file.
